


#TW: v9yeurism

by HitherDither



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, F/M, Oral Sex, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitherDither/pseuds/HitherDither
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kankri has to take a walk to help take his mind off his raging hormones, but he's not the only one out tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#TW: v9yeurism

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing.

It worked tremendously to your favor that the sun in this particular bubble had long set. Stripped of all lethality, it was still dreadfully uncomfortable to be caught in it's harshly bright gaze, and tonight of all nights you were not sure if you would have been able to take it.

Every step had become a challenge, your entire body pulsed with aching need. While time in each of these long-gone memories could change drastically every few minutes, your biological makeup was still wired to a set schedule. You still slept roughly every fourteen hours when it was supposed to be day, you would get ravenous and irritable a few hours after waking when it should normally be the favorite lusii hunting hour of high-moons, and when time spanned a certain measure- around 2 perigrees or so- your pailing urges would hit their highest peak.

While alive, you had kept a hidden datebook with your personal schedule. It gave you ample warning to those times when you would be unable to stand the company of others and needed to be extra diligent in patrolling your thoughts and movements. After death, there were no relevant dates or times- so while you had the gist of time it took between cycles, they would sometimes hit you by surprise.

Fortunate for a second time, tonight was not one of those nights. There had been a slight oddness in the way you'd been feeling for the past few sleeping cycles, which was a very evident warning of what was to come. Restlessness, irritability, the urge to pile objects and seek a partner to fill one (or both) of your concupiscent quadrants. Your strict self-discipline had helped to suppress three of those symptoms, but you felt slightly ashamed of yourself for the large pile of scrapped fabric and papers you had collected from one of the bubbles that now adorned your private sleeping area.

Sometimes you couldn't win them all.

Giving into the urge to make a pile was the least of your worries right now, though. You'd let yourself make fifty piles before you'd stop moving forward- one more step, one more after that, never ceasing. It was an act of desperation- you needed to keep walking until you had tired yourself out enough to sleep without being fitful. If you could just manage to get to sleep- real, deep sleep- your body would naturally relieve itself. While not the most tasteful or hygienic option, you could not be held accountable for your mind's wanderings when asleep. While your hands were willfully tucked to your sides during slumber, a diurnal emission would not break your vow of chastity.

It had been several hours since you'd started forward, and you were hungry and yearning, but not yet tired.

The landscape began to change, and you braced yourself for the worst. At one time you had been thrown into a raging snow storm in the middle of day, and it was just about time for your good luck to run out again. Instead, the quiet buildings and cold cement around you disintegrated, and you found yourself walking along a trail of hard-packed dirt in a slumbering wood.

The moons and stars were still brightly dotted over head, and a light breeze helped to cool your burning face as it passed. Somewhere, up there, a group of stars must have been aligned just for you. Tentatively, you let your mind relax in the calmness that saturated the trees as you followed the trail in your continued journey to exhaustion.

Only a few minutes had passed during your walk through this new bubble when you felt an ache spread through your lower stomach. Your genebladder had filled to it's limit, and the discomfort would only intensify as time went on. That was just fine to you- the pain you could handle, it was the arousal that you hated. Your bulge had been partially unsheathed for some time now, loosely balled in the front of your underwear creating an obscene lump at the front of your crotch. Tugging at the hem of your sweater hid both that and the dark patch spreading along the inside junction of your thighs. You felt horribly unclean, but it would be useless to bathe or change clothes until this was all over.

Time slowly marched on. The canopy was scattered thin enough to see quite a lot of sky, and from your observations so far the moons didn't appear to be moving at all. Bubbles had odd quirks at times, all you could do was shrug and move on.

The path was starting to narrow- a flash of sweat beaded on your skin at the thought of having to stop your trek. The ground ahead was scattered with leaves and twigs, and you could make out a fallen tree up ahead that stretched out across what was left of your pathway.

There was no way you could turn around, you didn't have it in you. You had to keep pressing forward until you either hit a sheer cliff face, or the surroundings melted away again. Without ever slowing your pace, you kept to the path and headed towards the fallen trunk.

The hard crack of a twig under your foot startled you, but not near as much as the hushed voices that suddenly rushed into your ears.

“What was that?”

“What wasth what?”

Your feet froze to the ground- your focus and momentum gone, a rush of restless heat settled in your crotch. But you fisted your hands to your sides and pricked your ears. The voices were coming from the end of the path, probably just beyond the roadblock.

“... Nevermind, the wind probably kicked up something.”

That was Latula's voice. You swallowed hard, carefully looking at the ground and picking around the fallen leaves and sticks. It sounded like Mituna was with her as well. As much as you dreaded contact with other trolls during such desperate times, they could at least be used as accountability partners until you managed to get yourself under control.

Every step towards the tree lit you on fire- the movement of your pants had your bulge rubbing up against the crease of your left thigh and you had to bite your tongue to keep your mind focused. You kept to one edge of the path, towards the thickest part of the trunk that rested across the ground. It was so large that once you finally reached it, your eyes could barely clear over the bark to the other side.

The thought of moving to the other side where the tree tapered vanished from your mind as soon as your eyes focused.

Just beyond the obstacle was the end of the long, winding path. It was a small, moss covered clearing, and it seemed to have been picked out precisely due to it's privacy.

Latula's body suit was unzipped and barely half-on, and Mituna, sitting under her weight, was in much the same state.

Heat rose to your cheeks and you had to bury your nails into your leg to bring your suddenly racing thoughts to a halt.

Fingers ran through Mituna's hair, his helmet somewhere unseen. Latula grinned and giggled, prodding his horns and leaning down to kiss him. Mituna held out his tongue and blew a raspberry in her face, and they both held each other in a fit of delighted laughter.

The display helped soothe your desires- it was decidedly pale for a flushed coupling. A different kind of yearning built up in your chest, reminding you that Porrim had hinted several times at wanting to form such a relationship.

Watching Latula pet her matesprit, kiss his forehead, and envelop him in comforting hugs made you wish to pursue that course.

And then one of Mituna's ungloved hands slipped along Latula's stomach, down her suit, and she /sighed/.

There was a quiet clicking, crunching sound as you dug your fingers into the dead tree you were leaning against. Your body switched gears in an instant, and your bulge unwound to press uncomfortably against your stomach. Fully unsheathed and pulsing, your urges were threatening to win out, but you stood shock still and kept your hands at eye level.

Opening your mouth to interrupt the two frisky trolls, the only sound you managed to make would probably have not even alerted a fly to your presence.

You found yourself unable to speak, and you didn't dare move until the urge had passed. Your luck was finally running dry- a painful cramp overtook you and made tears bead in the corners of your eyes.

“You got it,” her encouraging voice was soft and light, carried on the breeze. Mituna leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, whispering something that you couldn't quite catch.

Latula was suddenly pushing his hand away, pulling herself off of his lap. For a moment you tried to clear your throat to bring attention to yourself, but then Mituna was pulling and kicking his way out of his clothes with Latula gently helping them slide off.

A rather crude question that had circulated around your group of acquaintances was immediately answered: only one ocher bulge was jutting from his crotch, and before it even had time to start curling itself up, Latula had kissed its tip and pulled it into her mouth.

You were overtaken with the need to squirm, but managed to fight it off until it came only as a severe tremble. The trail stood behind you as a way out, but you no longer trusted yourself to move. A hot spurt of slurry dampened your pants further, and you finally had to permit your hand to grab your own bulge through the cloth- but not for self-satisfying purposes. Hissing through your teeth, you had to lead it back up to sit against your stomach instead of curling down to rest against your own nook.

The depravity of the thought had you quietly gasping for air.

Not that you had to worry about being quiet. Latula's head was slowly rising and falling, and Mituna was keening loudly with every subtle movement. Forcing your hand to pull back up, you dug your claws ever further into the dry bark to keep yourself from being tempted.

A small wave of relief washed over you when Latula finally sat back up. If they could just up and leave, or, no matter how embarrassing the situation might be, notice you were standing there...

Her head dipped down again, and the sound that issued from Mituna's throat had drowsing birds streaking up from the trees. Latula was firmly planted between her matesprit's quivering legs, and beyond his screaming you could hear the obscene sounds of her tongue working against his nook.

Your legs snapped together, knees rubbing against each other in another act of treason against your will. The base of your bulge was caught between your clenched thighs and the sudden movement of your legs had blinding sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your hips rocked of their own accord and when they did the pressure had the nerves lining your nook smashing together and that was it- you choked and fell to your knees, bits of bark sprinkling over you as your claws dragged down the side of the tree. Genetic material gushed unchecked between your thighs, coating your skin and soaking into your clothes. Your back arched in a bow, the intense euphoria coursing through your veins making your arms and legs tremble and threaten to give out from under you.

And at last, they did.

Quaking from horns to toes, you fell in a heap on the ground. Quite suddenly, the discomfort from the rocks and twigs under your body melted into nothing, and the dirt gave way to soft, gentle grasses.

You had to force yourself to open your eyes and assess your location- the pleasure was quickly fading, replaced by pure, outright exhaustion. The physical and mental battle of the night had done a huge number on you, and it was all you could do to not succumb to sleep on the spot.

Luck was a fitful thing, and the cards had fallen in your favor right in the moment that counted the most. This was your space, a little hidden corner away from sunlight in the day, and where you had haphazardly made a pile of comforting materials over the last few nights.

The quick bubble switch also seemed to have separated you from the loving couple, which was a blessing in more than one way.

You could no longer think of that, though. Shame tried to creep into your veins, but it was pushed out by sheer fatigue. It was a battle all in itself to get to your feet- your legs were made of jelly and you had a very real fear of falling.

It didn't take long to shuck your pants off, and that was all you could do. Barely making it to the pile, you collapsed- dirty in so much more than one way, but too tired to do anything about it.

You'd take time to feel bad about your failures this night at another time. Fulfilled and empty, sleep overtook you before you could even realize it.


End file.
